


Twas the Night Before Christmas

by Avirra



Series: Man from U.N.C.L.E - Holiday Tales [8]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2190573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avirra/pseuds/Avirra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All is not well in the Waverly household this Christmas season.  A tale told in three parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Christmas Past

[ ](http://s951.photobucket.com/user/Sabrevic/media/xmas1.jpg.html)

**_Christmas Eve - 1966_ **

Christmas Eve was normally a noisy and jubilant time in the Waverly household, but not this year. This year, it was far, far too quiet. Millicent had been ill for days and had been in the hospital. Probably should still be in the hospital, but she had practically begged to be home for Christmas and his Millicent was not a woman to beg. It was important to her for some reason and even though he wasn't sure what that reason was, all that mattered was that she wanted it.

On consulting with the doctors, they had admitted that they had done all that they could for her and that, so long as she kept up with her medication, she could convalese as well at home as at the hospital. That was all he needed to hear and so, he brought her home. He knew the real reason the doctors agreed - they weren't expecting her to pull through and thought they were respecting her desire to die at home. Alexander wouldn't accept that possibility. Millicent was a fighter. She just needed to rally her strength.

Moving closer to the bed, he was concerned about her pallor. Her skin appeared almost as translucent as that of a wax doll and that did nothing to aleve his worries. Gently taking her wrist, he reassured himself with the feel of her pulse before glancing to the bedside table. Slowly opening the drawer to avoid making noise, he pulled out an old pocket watch. The face of it was showing its age - much as his own face showed the passing years, he thought as a wry smile formed. Millicent had given him the watch as a present that Christmas he spent in the hospital during -

His breath caught as the significance of the day and year suddenly hit him. A warm smile formed as he reached his free hand to gently touch his wife's face and allowed the memories to carry him back in time fifty years.

_**Christmas Eve - 1916** _

The staff at the military hospital were mistaken about a great many things. They assumed that the quiet, pale woman at the bedside of Captain Waverly was a woman in her early twenties and the Captain's betrothed. Millicent Kildare was not a woman to correct the assumptions of others when those assumptions were to her advantage. Had they known she was a sixteen year old girl with no official ties to Alexander Waverly, odds were that she wouldn't even be allowed to visit him, let alone be permitted the nearly unlimited access she currently enjoyed.

A glance at the clock told her it was time to wake him.

"Alexander? Alexander - it's nearly midnight, darling."

He slowly opened his eyes, then a smile formed as he looked into the blue eyes that he'd grown to know so well.

"Are the stars out, my dear?"

"The clouds have gone away for now. The sky's clear. Here. It's close enough to midnight. Open your present."

The package she slipped into his hand was small and had fit easily into her pocket. A soft chuckle came out as he fingered the paper - less because of his desire to keep quiet and more because he still couldn't take a proper deep breath to get more sound out.

"You shouldn't have gotten me anything, Millicent. You being here has been present enough."

"Well, I have no intention of returning it, so you will simply have to accept it in spite of that."

"I should know better than to argue with you by now."

"Yes, you should."

Smiling at that, Alexander slowly tore the paper, trying to keep his hands steady enough to do the job. For her part, Millicent practically sat on her hands to prevent herself from helping him. She knew he felt quite helpless enough without being made to think he couldn't even handle opening a present.

It took him minutes to do what once would have taken seconds, but he successfully opened it and looked inside. A new pocket watch gleamed from the nest of soft cotton that cushioned the box.

"You remembered that mine was lost in the trenches?"

"Yes. Do you like it?"

"Very much, my dear. I have something for you as well. Just a moment. Nurse Anders?"

"Yes, Captain Waverly?"

"Would you kindly bring over the box my personal items are locked in?"

"Of course, sir. I'll be right back."

As Millicent waited with undisguised curiosity, Alexander accepted the small lockbox and opened it, pulling out what looked like a coin wrapped in tissue paper. Smiling, Nurse Anders took the lockbox back away at his nod.

Once they were alone again - or alone as they would ever be inside of a hospital - Alexander held out a slightly shaking hand to her. Millicent took it, then froze as Alexander awkwardly slid a ring onto her finger.

"I will not be confined to this bed forever, Millicent. When the day comes that I can stand next to you again, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Staring at the ring as if mesmerized, Millicent was speechless, so Alexander kissed the ring on her finger and spoke again.

"I know we would need to wait until after you finish your schooling, but you have just slightly over a year remaining before you turn eighteen. And when this war is over, you will still see the world, but we will see it together."

A tear rolled down Millicent's cheek followed by another. That worried him until he looked directly into her eyes and saw the warmth there as she finally found her voice.

"Yes. I would be honoured to be your wife, Alexander."

"Merry Christmas, Millicent."

"The best that I've ever had, Alexander. I do love you so."

_**Christmas Eve - 1966** _

Opening his eyes, Alexander reached down again and lifted his wife's left hand, kissing the ring that still rested on her finger.

"And I love you, Millicent."

All he wanted for Christmas was for her to open her eyes and smile at him again.


	2. Christmas Present

**_Christmas Day - 1966_ **

Alexander didn't know when he'd fallen asleep in the chair by Millicent's bedside, but he found himself being gently woken up by his top four agents. His very concerned agents. He wasn't sure whether to feel grateful or a touch annoyed by them checking up on him, but he knew very well that Millicent would appreciate the gesture, so he forced away the feelings of annoyance for her sake.

"April and Mark have a light breakfast ready for you in the other room, sir. Illya and I will sit with Mrs. Waverly while you eat and refresh yourself a bit."

"While I appreciate -"

His words trailed off as April laid a hand on his arm.

"Please, Mister Waverly. I made a promise to your wife when I visited her at the hospital. You know how she feels about promises, so please don't make me break one to her."

"Exactly what did you promise her, Miss Dancer?"

"To make sure that you were taken care of as well as you were taking care of her."

Finding himself having to swallow a lump in his throat, Alexander took a deep breath to steady himself and then conceded the point.

"That does sound like my Millicent. Very well then."

Rising, he moved over to the bedside again, his hand trembling ever so slightly as it touched her hair.

"I will be back shortly, Millicent, my dear. Mister Kuryakin, would you mind reading to her? My Russian is decent enough for getting a point across in common conversation, but poorly suited to reading the poetry she loves so well. The book is there on the table."

"It would be my pleasure, sir."

"I'll bring you some tea back this way, Illya. Napoleon? Coffee for you?"

"Yes, please. Thanks, Mark."

As Mark made his way to the kitchen area to make the tea, April steered Mister Waverly over to the table where some croissants were in a small basket with butter and strawberry jam nearby. A small smile lit his face when he saw them.

"That rather brings back a few memories of Paris. Very typical of the petit dejeuner there."

Seeing an opening to learn something more of the Waverly's past, April poured coffee for them both and offered him the cream before sitting down herself.

"Have you spent a lot of time in France, Mister Waverly?"

"Oh yes indeed, Miss Dancer. Millicent and I both have always enjoyed visiting France. Our second Christmas as man and wife was spent in Paris."

"What was it like?"

"Quite different than now in many ways. The World War had ended and I believe the last of treaties had just been signed the month before."

While speaking, his mind went back to that snowy day. It was as clear in his mind as if it had happened only yesterday.

[ ](http://s951.photobucket.com/user/Sabrevic/media/xmas2.jpg.html)

**_Christmas Day - 1919_ **

As Alexander and Millicent strolled to their favorite Parisian bakery, Alexander reflected that much had changed in his nearly two years as a married man. Despite the cold air, he was finally able to take a deep breath again without lapsing into a coughing fit. He was also able to walk by her side with hardly a trace of the limp that was all that was left of the injury that he had originally been told would leave him unable to walk without assistance for the remainder of his life. He almost chuckled when he recalled the way that Millicent had literally thrown the doctor saying that out of his room, very loudly suggesting that the doctor's dubious talents were more suited to tending of the cavalry horses that to the soldiers.

Her persistence in finding a doctor that believed he could recover as strongly as she did had made all of the difference. Too many doctors were satisfied to treat him by simply dealing with numbing his pain while doing essentially nothing else at all. The doctor whose treatment course he ended up taking took him through a therapy regimen that was painful, long and hard, but Millicent had stood by his side for the whole of it and the results were undeniable. He was walking down the street with his wife. His leg was a bit stiff from the weather, that was all.

"A ha'penny for your thoughts, Alexander. I saw that smile."

The chuckle did make it out that time as he stopped their stroll and brushed a few snowflakes from her hood.

"I was merely thinking back to when you unceremoniously tossed Doctor Tyler out of my hospital room. Quite an accomplishment considering he stood a good foot taller than you."

Giving a small toss of her head, Millicent's tone told the depth of her contempt of the man. She looked ahead at the Eiffel Tower in the distance as her mittened hands clenched into fists.

"Drugging a man or woman until they couldn't even tell if they still had a leg instead of taking the steps to heal it was hardly an act worthy of the title of 'doctor'. I do not hold inability against a man, but I do hold refusal to admit it against him."

"I am quite certain everyone in the vicinity was well aware of your opinion, my dear."

She paused as if a thought suddenly struck her for the first time.

"Alexander? Did I embarrass you?"

"A bit, my dear, but only because you were standing up for me more than I was standing up for myself."

"Nonsense. That charlatan had so many drugs in your system that you were doing well to remember your name."

"Have I ever remembered to thank you?"

"You went ahead and married me anyway, didn't you? I rather took that as a vote of confidence."

"Not for that, my dear. For never giving up on me."

**_Christmas Day - 1966_ **

Without even noticing he was doing so, Mister Waverly had eaten three of the croissants with jam and drunk his cup of cafe au lait. When he had paused long enough for April to recognize that his reminiscences had stopped, she spoke softly.

"Russian poetry is all well and good, sir, but perhaps she might respond better if it were you speaking to her in French."

Lifting his head a bit to meet her eyes, Mister Waverly considered April's words quietly for a moment.

"I do believe you have the right of that, Miss Dancer. If you would be so kind as to ask Mister Slate to brew another pot of tea, I believe that I will take a moment to get cleaned up a bit before returning to my wife."

"Of course, Mister Waverly. Is there anything else we can do?"

"Are you a religious woman, Miss Dancer?"

"Yes sir."

"A prayer might not be out of place then."

"She's already in them, Mister Waverly."


	3. Christmas Future

**_Late Christmas Day - 1982_ **

"Grandfather? Grandfather - wake up."

Putting the back of his hand against his mouth to block a yawn, Alexander Waverly slowly opened his eyes. Vasilisa was perched by his knee, which meant the one nudging his shoulder was her adopted father, his grandson Jeremy.

"I'm up, I'm up, my dears. The fireplace just felt too good to these old bones of mine."

Getting up to hug him gently, Vasilisa kissed the dry cheek of the man who had given her the family she had once never even dared to dream of.

"You are not so old, Ded Alexander."

He laid a hand on her head, looking into the grey eyes that had always seem too old for her and he smiled at her.

"I am ninety years old, my dear child. I can rightfully claim to be old."

She smiled back before indicating her father.

"Papa found a present you missed opening, Ded Alexander. A pretty little gold box."

Jeremy held the small box out on the palm of his hand, but hesitated when he noticed his grandfather didn't reach for it.

"I didn't miss that one, my dears. That one is from Babushka Millicent. From before she left."

The grey eyes closed as Vasilisa leaned against his leg.

"You miss her terribly, don't you?"

"Yes, child. I do."

Taking back the tiny package and setting it on a nearby table, Jeremy cleared his throat slightly.

"I was around Vasilisa's age when Grandmother became terribly ill, wasn't I?"

Continuing to rest one hand on Vasilisa, Alexander drew a deep breath and thought back, nodding slowly.

"Yes. Sixteen years ago now. Hardly seems it's been so long ago now."

**_Late Christmas Day - 1966_ **

Despite a half-hearted protest that he hardly needed to be babysat, Alexander was sincerely grateful for the silent support being given freely to him by his four agents. Somewhere during the course of the day, they had all begun speaking in French, holding their conversations near Millicent's bedside as if she were taking part in them herself.

As the sun sank behind the horizon, a tap at the door announced the arrival of one of the Waverly sons, Matthew, accompanied by two of his daughters. They brought in a teapot, mugs of hot soup and a tray of sandwiches. Matthew turned his attention to building a fire as one of his daughters surveyed the mantlepiece.

"You haven't lit the candles today, Grandpa. May we do it for you?"

"Hmm? Oh yes. I'd quite forgotten. Go right ahead, Alexandria."

As the four agents watched, Alexandria moved to the right side of the mantle and her sister, Charlotte, to the left. The outer candles were lit first and as they slowly worked their way toward the large candle in the center, they began to sing.

~ _Célébrons tous ensemble (Let's all celebrate together)_ _La bonté de l'Éternel (The goodness of the Lord)_ _A quitté, a laissé Son trône (Has abandoned, has left His throne)_ _Est descendu du ciel (Has come down from Heaven)_ _A quitté, a laissé Son trône (Has abandoned, has left His throne)_ _Est descendu du ciel.~ (Has come down from Heaven)_

Napoleon was currently closest to the head of the bed and froze. Illya picked up on the change in his partner's body language immediately.

"What is wrong, Napoleon?"

All heads turned toward him as a smile slowly lit Napoleon's face.

"It's Mrs. Waverly. I swear, I hear her humming that carol."

Alexander moved like a man decades younger as he hurried back to her side. Picking up her hand, he was rewarded with his first sight of her blue eyes that day. Even better, her eyes were clear again, without the glassy appearance she'd had during her illness. The room became a flurry of activity but in the middle of it all, Alexander held her hand and drank in the warmth as she smiled at him.

**_Late Christmas Day - 1982_ **

"That was really all I wanted for Christmas that year, Vasilisa, my dear. To see your Babushka's beautiful smile. That is really all that I want for this Christmas as well."

Suddenly Vasilisa jumped up, clapping her hands as the doors opened.

"I heard that, Alexander. I must admit that does make you very easy to shop for."

Alexander rose from his chair a little stiffly, but made his way over to Millicent. She was being pushed in her wheelchair by Jeremy's wife, Amy. Her smile was absolutely radiant and warmed him far better than the fire.

"I am so sorry that we had to leave so suddenly and missed most of Christmas, Alexander, but babies come when they decide to and I did promise to be there for the birthing."

"I know, my dear girl. I wish I had been over my cold sooner so that I could have gone with you. Is everyone well?"

"Very well. We have a beautiful new great-grandson. Reginald."

"Saddled the poor lad with my middle name, did they? Well, perhaps he'll forgive them for that when he gets older."

Vasilisa danced over and pointed upward.

"Mistletoe, Ded Alexander! Babushka is parked under the mistletoe!"

Alexander and Millicent both looked up automatically. smiling as they saw that Amy had indeed maneuvered them under the sprig. Jeremy just laughed from the side lines.

"Like those two old lovebirds need any encouragement?"

Ignoring their grandson, Alexander helped Millicent to her feet. The grandfather clock in the hall began to strike the hours as they kissed, holding it until the chimes ended. As their lips finally separated, Millicent gave a contented sigh and settled her head against the shoulder of her husband of nearly sixty-five years.

"Merry Christmas, Alexander."

"Merry Christmas, Millicent."

[ ](http://s951.photobucket.com/user/Sabrevic/media/xmas3.jpg.html)


End file.
